Believe
by SunnyInOregon
Summary: A chance meeting in Central Park changes both of their lives.
1. Chapter 1

Believe

Blaine Anderson/Steve Rogers – I know the common way to ship this is Staine but I call it Bleve. Staine is something you want to get rid of. Bleve sounds something that gives you hope.

Note: For my bestie Jenn because she gives me hope. She has faith in me and helps me to believe in myself.

The air was crisp and cold. Leaves crunched under Steve's feet as he made his way through Central Park. The others told him it wasn't safe to walk through here alone at night but then Germany hadn't been safe either and he made it through that. He stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets and shivered as a burst of cold air passed over him. The breeze carried with it a haunting melody that made him stop mid-stride.

"What is that?" he muttered. It was too late for the bars to be open and he was too far from any residences to be hearing a radio. The voice was young and sweet; too young to be alone in the park at night. He shivered again as the breeze picked up and turned to follow the music. He stepped off of the path through an opening in the brush and stopped.

A dark haired teenage boy sat cross legged against a tree strumming a guitar and singing. Steve stood quietly and listened as the words washed over his skin. His heart ached for love lost and the sight of this boy so obviously in pain. His mind wandered as the boy continued to sing.

"Are you just going to stand there?" the boy asked breaking through Steve's thoughts.

"What are you doing here in the bushes?" Steve asked.

The boy smirked. "Hiding from the world. Apparently I'm not doing a very good job."

Steve looked around then back at the boy. "It's a good spot. The singing gave you away."

"Singing makes me feel better."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Wow! If that was a happy song I don't want hear your sad songs."

The boys smirk faded as his eyes dropped to the ground. Steve crouched so he could try to make eye contact.

"Are you okay? Is there someplace you can go? I can give you money if you need it." Steve offered.

The boy shook his head. "I'm okay. I have money for my plane ticket but there are no flights available for a few days. Thanks for the offer."

"What's your name?" Steve asked softly.

"Blaine," the boy answered as he slowly raised his eyes to Steve's.

"I'm Steve. Steve Rogers." He offered his hand. Blaine hesitated momentarily then reached out and shook Steve's hand.

"Blaine Anderson, nice to meet you Mr. Rogers."

Steve chuckled. "I think you can call me Steve.

Blaine smiled. "Thank you Steve."

"Listen, it's not safe out here. Why don't you come home with me? I don't have a lot of room but I have a couch that's better than this dirt patch here. And it's warmer," He added as another breeze cut through the bushes.

"I…" Blaine blinked. "What do you want from me?"

"Want?" Steve repeated. He shook his head. "I don't want anything from you."

It was Blaine's turn to raise an eyebrow. "People don't offer strangers a place to sleep unless they want something."

Steve frowned. "What could you possibly have that I would want?"

"Are you serious?" Blaine laughed.

Steve's frowned deepened.

Blaine swallowed hard and looked uncomfortable. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"I've lived in New York all my life," Steve answered. "Except for when I was in the Army."

Blaine swallowed again. "Listen, I might be from Ohio but even I know that when a man asks another man back to his place it means he wants sex."

"Oh God, no!" Steve blurted. He fell back on his ass then scrambled to his feet. "I'm not… I don't…what the hell?"

"I'm just trying to be real here," Blaine countered. "I'm not trying to offend you."

Steve sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I forget that the times have changed."

Steve stared at the younger man his thoughts racing. He should just walk away, forget that this ever took place but he wasn't the kind of man who could do that.

"I don't want anything Blaine. I just want to help you. I can't offer you any proof of my intentions I can only ask that you believe in me. I promise. Will you come with me?"


	2. Chapter 2

Believe

Blaine Anderson/Steve Rogers – I know the common way to ship this is Staine but I call it Bleve. Staine is something you want to get rid of. Bleve sounds like something that gives you hope.

Note: For my bestie Jenn because she gives me hope. She has faith in me and helps me to believe in myself.

Steve slid the key in the lock and peered over his shoulder to make certain Blaine was still behind him. The walk to his apartment had been companionable as Blaine chatted about nothing and everything the entire time. Steve didn't mind he liked the younger man and the conversation kept him from delving into his own thoughts. Twisting the key in the lock and opening the door, Steve briefly regretted his choice of apartments.

He had been happy when Agent Coulson had informed he had back pay coming. Until that moment he hadn't thought about how he would pay his own way in this world. The amount on the check had been overwhelming. Somehow, Coulson or Fury, someone had arranged that he be compensated in a way that included cost of living and pay raises. He was rich. Not Tony Stark rich, but richer than most people. He could have bought a nice apartment in a swanky building but the idea of spending that much money on a place to live was incomprehensible. Instead, he lived modestly and used his money to help those less fortunate than himself. People like Blaine.

"Wow," Blaine breathed as he stepped into the room. "This is not what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?" Steve asked.

Blaine snickered. "When you offered me money I thought you were rich but this… this makes me want to give you money."

Steve frowned and looked around. "It serves its purpose. I don't need your money."

"Dude, do you even have a tv?"

"No," Steve replied as he slid out of his jacket then hung it on a hook by the door.

"You probably don't have a computer either," Blaine stated knowingly.

Steve smiled sheepishly and shook his head. "I know nothing about computers."

"What do you do for entertainment? How do you know what is going on in the world?" Blaine asked in awe.

"I like to read," Steve announced. He walked across the room to the small kitchen area. "Make yourself at home. Relax. Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure," Blaine accepted. He placed his guitar case and duffel bag on the floor next to the couch.

Steve retrieved two glasses from a cupboard as he eyed the younger man settling on the couch. He felt bad that he had nothing to occupy his new friend. "As for news, I have several friends who like tell me all about the world and its current crisis."

He carried both glasses, both now filled with iced tea, across the room and handed one to Blaine.

"I'm sorry," Blaine apologized. "I shouldn't judge."

"It's okay," Steve acquiesced. "I've, um, I've been kind of out of touch for a long time. I'm still trying to figure out this new world."

Blaine swallowed some tea and peered at Steve. "Out of touch?"

Steve watched Blaine for a moment and realized his young friend was uncomfortable again.

"You have PTSD, or something?" Blaine asked cautiously.

Steve sat on the edge of an old rocking chair. "I don't even know what that is. PTSD?"

"Post traumatic stress disorder," Blaine supplied. "It's common in people who served in the military."

"Huh," Steve huffed.

They were both silent for several minutes. Blaine finished his tea and squirmed on the couch.

"Maybe I should go," Blaine began.

"Please don't," Steve pleaded. "I enjoy your company. And I don't have PTSD. At least I don't think so. I'll have to ask David about it."

"David?"

"Doctor David Banner," Steve supplied. "He's a friend of mine. You'd like him. I think."

What kind of doctor is he?"

A scientist of some sort. I don't understand most of what he talks about but Tony does."

"Another friend, I presume?"

Steve nodded and sat back in the rocking chair. "Tony Stark."

"Tony Stark! You know Tony Stark?" Blaine asked disbelieving.

"Yes."

Blaine laughed. "Right. And I'm Michael Jackson."

"Michael who?"

Blaine laughed again. You really know nothing about pop culture, don't you?"

Steve nodded. "I was in a coma for a long time. A lot of the things you take for granted I've never heard of before."

Blaine sobered and stared at Steve for several minutes. "You're Steve Rogers. THE Steve Rogers. Captain America?"

Steve took a drink from his glass, wiped the moisture from his lips and smiled.

"Yes I am."


End file.
